The (New) New Recruit
by TheScribe6754
Summary: Can romance stand the test of time, bondage and alternate realities? Who knows! All I know is this is going to be a lot of fun. Elizabeth Hawthorne was, of course, your average college student just trying to get through the day. But everything changed when Magneto and the Brotherhood attacked. Can Liz charm her way out of this one or will she have to fight her way out? (OCxAzazel)
1. INTRO

**LONG INTRO TIME!**

(Pro Tip: Skip ahead if you want and enjoy the fic!)

Okay, so, for anyone reading this...as I'm sure you already know, it's been a long time since I've written. I mean, a LONG time. And I didn't exactly finish the last fic in my little collection.

And I've gotta say, that's probably for the best. A lot can change in what, like, two friggin years and, reading over my old stuff, I feel like I've definitely changed, and hopefully for the better.

With my "The New Recruit' Series, I started off strong (but still pretty shoddy) and as we got to the second and third 'installments' it just got crazier and my attitude became: Fuck it! Let's go all out in this bitch!

And while I do feel like it allowed me to explore different themes and helped me try to develop new plots and take characters in new directions, it went WAY further off from what I'd originally intended.

I don't know if I will or even CAN finish what I started with the New Recruit (And especially that God awful The New Threat *shivers*), I do want to try again. So, I decided to go a new direction entirely.

I'm wiping the slate clean and I'm starting fresh.

This fic is kind of a what-if situation. As in: **What if Elizabeth _hadn't_ just decided to join the very obviously bad guys in the beginning of TNR?** What if she'd rebelled and began her journey locked up with the others who refused?

And thus, the first few chapters of this fic were feverishly produced. I don't know if I can keep up with this fic but I DO know that I sure the hell will try. I've got no real clue which direction I want to take it but, with any luck, I'll be able to get out chapters regularly and bring something new—and hopefully better—to the table this time.

Thank you to old fans and welcome to new ones! Newbies can always read my old fic but starting out with this one won't hurt either. After all, it's a whole new story! ...Sort of.

 **Anyway, as always, I'd like to thank those of you reading and would like to provide my standard DISCLAIMER, which states that I do not own the X-Men nor its affiliates. I own only my Original Characters.**

 **Thank you very much, and I hope you enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 1: First Impressions

**Oh, hi, there! So yeah, thanks for reading and all that. I know it's kind of weird for me to suddenly be posting again but, shoot, it's been so long! I miss writing like this and getting your guys' feed back. So, without further delay, here's this just-for-shits-and-giggles fic.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own X-Men or it's affiliates. Thank you and Enjoy :D**

* * *

Chapter One: First Impressions

I should have seen this coming.

Today started off all wrong. There was something in the air that just seemed to say trouble was coming. And sure enough, _it did._

The mutant "issue" has really been hitting home lately, what with the most recent, and ever-increasing mutant attacks and all. When a High School in Colorado, not very far away from my dorm, was invaded by Mutants and three students went missing, the city seemed to lose it. The news ate it up and any mutant sympathy there may have been in the area went right out the window, with hate crimes against anyone who even _looks_ weird escalating tenfold. Oddly enough, the media seems quiet when it comes to Human-on-Mutant crime, but I digress.

That was nearly a month ago. Ever since then, I've been on high alert.

It's not safe for anyone anymore, human _or_ mutant…

Now, hunkering down in this dark classroom with my fellow thespians, I still find myself wondering who is who. Amidst the screams and the explosions of the ongoing assault, I can't help but ponder which of my friends is a mutant and which is human. Priorities, right? It's hard to think during all of this though. It all happened so quickly.

I didn't even see who our attackers were or what they looked like.

All anyone saw was explosions and chaos as people ran by one of the Theater rooms near the auditorium, shouting about a mutant attack. Not knowing what else to do, I fled along with the others as screams and loud, thundering sounds rattled the building.

Debris fell all around us and I found that I had to cover my face with my sleeve to keep from breathing in the dust. The sound was absolutely terrifying. Myself and a few others escaped the initial assault and hid away in a room filled with instruments somewhere in the Band room, where we had all been hanging out about an hour ago.

There I quickly armed myself with a heavy, metal music stand, feeling better with it than if I were empty handed, and began discussing a plan of action with the others. Some thought we should stay put; wait it out.

Me and a few others thought otherwise.

They'll find us eventually, and if not, then what? Just sit back while the others who haven't gotten away are being kidnapped or worse? Or wait for the building to collapse?

I don't think so.

Those of us who wanted to find help parted ways with the others and split up to find an exit with the intent to run to the nearest police station. I, foolishly, broke off from the rest of the group. _My_ plan was to get back to my dorm or the reception office across campus and call the police from there. I never even got out the door.

I was almost at the exit of the Performing Arts (PA) building near the parking lot when I stumbled onto what looked like the end of a vicious brawl.

Glenn, my friend since high school, was gasping for air as he was being strangled, mid-air, by a brute of a man with long, claw-like fingernails and tiger-like canines. Glenn's handsome face was turning from red to purple from a lack of oxygen and he feebly kicked out against the brute in vain as he began to lose consciousness.

I was horror-stricken.

Glenn is and always was a big boy. Tall and broad shouldered, he carried himself with power and was stronger than your average Joe, even by mutant's standards. So, watching him get throttled by someone three times my own size as if he were no more than a pre-pubescent twerp was seriously daunting. But I had to do _something_. My best friend since High School was in trouble, so I did what I could.

I hesitated, still clutching the music stand in my sweaty palms. Then, with a fool-hearty burst of courage, I hurled myself at full running speed towards them. I raised the stand over my shoulder like a bat with the intent to use it as such. I meant to aim for the head. Naturally, the clawed assailant heard me coming, and was already turning around just as I swung the bat forward—

And disappeared into a vacuum of deep, black emptiness from which there seemed to be no escape.

It was as if something had just exploded in my face in a plume of black and red. My vision swam for just a moment while the thick, pungent smell of brimstone filled my nose and then that suffocating emptiness...It was how I always imagined space would feel like. And somehow, in the midst of it all, I felt someone grab onto the stand in that soul-crushing void and wrench it from my hands.

I heard it clank to the floor, but before I could do much more than shout once, I had a strange feeling that I was falling yet, being sucked down into nothingness at the same time. It was like I was traveling through a black, empty space with only the feeling of a hand cinched around my arm, carrying me through it.

Then there was a blinding light, a tugging feeling, and I flew forward with a sudden burst of light and air. The world spun for a nauseating second before the guiding hand suddenly released me, and I hit the floor with a jarring crash. All of this...in a matter of _seconds._ Possibly even _one_ second!

It was incredible. But _highly_ disorienting, to say the least. I hit the solid floor harder than I initially thought.

Not only was I bruised from the tumble, I suddenly felt extremely nauseous. My breath became labored and my head swam. I stayed on the ground for a while, groaning, until the world stopped spinning, and then I laid there a bit longer until I was sure that, if I sat up, I wouldn't hurl.

"Liz!" I heard Glenn shouting distantly as my own attacker advanced on me. "Get _away_ from her! **Liz!** "

His voice brought me out of my daze and I managed to roll onto my side, one arm supporting me with my other hand pressed against my forehead. At first, I thought I'd lost my mind when I saw three, blurry, red and black figures standing over me. But then they merged into two, then one. My vision focused and I realized I wasn't crazy. It was much worse than that.

It was a mutant – like on television.

He was tall with black, sleek hair, wearing a sharp, black suit. But that wasn't how I could tell he was a mutant. This man had stunning, icy blue eyes that contrasted his crimson skin. Oh, and there was also that incredibly long spaded tail that swayed continuously behind him that sort of tipped me off as well.

The guy looked like the devil, minus the hooves and horns.

I found myself transfixed on that spaded tail, but watching it made me dizzier. I had to close my eyes to get my bearings.

"What—what did you—do to me?" I murmured at last, pausing to breathe between every few words. I hoisted myself onto my knees, risking a glance up at the man who simply looked at me with slight interest, his head cocked to the side curiously.

Glancing around, I noticed that Glenn and the assailant were both gone and I was somehow several feet away from where I'd been only moments before.

"Where is he?!" I shouted at the mutant. Now, I was leaning against the wall. The dizziness and nausea were subsiding and slowly being replaced by fear.

"Not here," the Mutant replied simply. I frowned, shooting him a vicious glare under my furrowed brow.

" _Obviously_ ," I hissed icily. The mutant seemed to be observing me, watching me struggle to get my bearings, but didn't move to attack me further. What gives?!

I grew angry (and slightly embarrassed) under his stare.

"What?" I snapped.

Satan's tail give a sharp swishing motion as though he was surprised by my outburst, although his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. Real stoic.

"You are—stronger than most I have teleported," The mutant said in a thick, (I think Russian) accent. He spoke slowly, as though carefully choosing his words out of an English dictionary. "Most become sick, even sleep." The mutant added, I think I even heard a tone in his voice that sounded vaguely impressed by this.

"Oh, a teleporter," I muttered. Made sense.

"Your friend will be safe for now," the mutant said, choosing then to answer my first question. But that still didn't tell me where Glenn was.

"Wow, you're vague," I remarked in annoyance and took a cautious step forward. I received no reaction other than a slight tail curl from the mutant. I was still wondering why he wasn't attacking me already. Maybe I could stall…

"And, uh, you are here to do what exactly?"

"I am not to be explaining," the mutant said.

I had the feeling it wasn't out of a need for secrecy but merely because he just really didn't care to explain. "You will learn from _Magneto_." He added. And with that he extended a red hand to me, beckoning impatiently.

I looked at him apprehensively, raising my eyebrow as if to say, "for real?"

I really didn't want to be teleporting (or Bamfing, let's just say) again anytime soon. Especially since I wasn't sure if when he said that it made some people _'Sleep,'_ he meant passing out or falling into a coma, or worse…

As though reading my mind, the mutant flicked his sky-blue eyes up and to the right with a small sigh.

"We will not be teleporting. Just next door," he said, giving the slightest of nods towards the Band room where my friends were no doubt still hiding at that very moment.

I tensed.

"Uh-huh," I said stepping closer. The mutant again showed no change facially but his twitching tail betrayed him. I suspected that he found my behavior strange, which most people already do, and I figured I could work with that.

 _I guess people usually attempt to run by now,_ I thought to myself. He might've been trying to figure out if I was human or not as well.

"And if I refuse…"

"You will not," the mutant said firmly.

"Why not?" I demanded, realizing how silly it sounded once the words left my mouth.

"I mean, what makes _you_ so sure?" I backtracked, digging my hole of embarrassment two feet deeper. The mutant actually bore a facial expression then; a rather amused look that pulled at the corner of his red lips in a smirk as one, scarred eyebrow arched.

"Would you rather walk to see your friends, or be dragged?" The mutant asked, actually managing to put a full sentence together. As though to emphasize his point, the mutant took a step forward, causing me to take an involuntary step back. I cursed softly, escape still at the forefront of my mind.

Then I got an idea.

A really, really stupid idea.

"Fine, you win!" I said nonchalantly, putting my hands up in mock surrender and making a move to step around him. The mutant reached for my arm but I withdrew it sharply. I glared at him and he smirked back.

"I think I can handle walking in on my own, _thank_ s." I hissed stubbornly and took a few steps forward, casting him a side-long glance as I passed him, walking by so close my hair brushed against his shoulder.

Then, I made my move.

I took two steps forward, lingering on the second step, then pivoted abruptly, using that second step for momentum as I lurched back. Cupping my right fist in my left hand, I threw my elbow and my full body weight into the mutants' scarred face.

The impact shot pain through my arm, but I ignored it and made a mad dash toward the exit. Naturally, I didn't make it very far. He recovered faster than I thought he would and I heard him teleport just behind me.

Knowing he'd reach out for me, I ducked down and danced underneath him. I tried to finesse my way in the opposite direction, surprising myself on how clever the move was…Only to be caught around the waist by the mutant's wicked-fast tail. I hadn't considered it as an actual weapon. I felt myself falling and reached out in a panic.

I threw my arms around his neck and brought him to the ground with me.

We fell in a confusing heap together, the mutants' surprisingly strong tail was still fixed around my waist, making it difficult to breathe. I flailed madly, hoping to fend him off enough to run away. He tried to restrain me but my panicked wheeling made him lose his grip.

We both shot up but that damned tail forced me back down, as though it operated separately from the mutant himself. He was on me in a second. We grappled for a moment as he straddled my waist and the tail unwound itself from my abdomen, allowing me to breathe.

I writhed harder, struggling against the mutant in an awkward kind of two-handed arm wrestling match until my arms gave out and he managed to pin my wrists at either side of my head. It took me awhile before I finally stopped thrashing and cursing, and allowed the mutant to have his moment to gloat over my defeat.

"I was hoping you would do that," the mutant admitted with a wicked smirk. His lip was busted from where I hit him. His smile was large, jovial and flashed a set of relatively neat teeth. I didn't even know he could smile like that!

It was kinda...

Cute.

I suddenly felt the back of my neck grow hot and my cheeks become inflamed. Oh man…

"Ha, ha," I said humorlessly. His slick hair fell lightly in his face, giving him a boyish sort of look to him. I blushed harder and turned my head away, saying, "you've had your fun. Now get off me!"

The mutant made no move to obey.

"You are strong— _for a human_ ," the mutant observed in a low voice, scrutinizing me as I stared into his pale blue eyes and something about the look told me he suspected something much different.

I snorted at that.

"Liar."

"Is true," Diet Satan insisted, still grinning. "You hit me. Is impressive!"

I couldn't help but grin back just a little. _What the hell,_ I found myself thinking. _Why is he so cute?!_

"Yeah, well," I puffed. My voice had noticeably lowered as I took in his countenance up close.

His features were just so striking to me. Just his facial structure, his thick hair slightly askew, the scar on his face; that skin, those eyes, the mischievous look on his face that tells me he knows something I don't…

"I guess I'm just," I continued in almost a whisper as he continued to draw closer. "Special—Like that…" I shifted a little, growing nervous. He was coming in way too close. Dangerously close.

In a moment of panic, I thought was going to try to kiss me.

I blinked at the realization, and bucked my hips suddenly, like a braying mare.

Lucifer lurched forward, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, but he didn't fall off. However, I was able to pull my right leg up against the mutants chest and I made a move to kick him in the only place where I knew he'd have trouble recovering.

But that _tail_ was far faster than me and it whipped tightly around my leg. The tail then jerked my leg out from under him, and I felt the sharp spade of the tail cut right through my jeans. There was a burning pain in my calf and I tried to suppress a cry from leaving my lips.

I failed miserably and gave a loud yowl.

I cursed again seeing that the mutants' grip hadn't lessened any. Another escape attempt failed. I resumed my struggling, groaning in utter frustration as the mutant simply leaned in closer, that smirk still on his face, the smug bastard.

"Done?" He asked.

I pursed my lips and nodded.

He heaved an annoyed sigh, blue eyes twinkling maliciously, "Too bad. But you must see Magneto. N _ow_." The Mutant emphasized, and I knew another escape attempt would not be tolerated.

" _Then let me **up** already_." I said through clenched teeth, narrowing my own eyes at him.

"As you wish."

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 **As we can see, this is a slightly different Liz than we're used to. I'll explain why that is a bit more in the near future. Until next time!**

 **~TheScribe!**


	3. Chapter 2: Hidden Talents

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own X-men or their affiliates/characters. This is purely for fun.**

Sorry, this is a long chapter. Most of them won't be like this, I swear! Thanks and Enjoy:D

Chapter 2: Hidden Talents

So, anyway, we're all caught up now.

Yeah, I was telling you all that in past tense.

Confusing right? Anyway, now we're in present tense so…yeah.

I've just gotten my ass kicked by a devilishly handsome (get it?) mutant and am now being hauled off to meet the leader. Why?

I have no idea. But if I can keep my head down and wait for them to leave, I should make it out of this unscathed…right?

Mr. Beelzebub leads me into the band room where I immediately am met by a tall, strikingly pale woman with long, blonde hair and an outfit befitting an exotic dancer. She towers over me, looking me up and down with an air of annoyance.

"What's _this_?" The woman quips at the red man.

 _'I could ask you the same thing, lady. 'Bring a Hoe to Work day' was yesterday,'_ I think to myself.

At least, I _assume_ I'm thinking only to myself. But as my own words stretch across my mind, the woman's smug features contort into a deep frown, her blue eyes narrow at me dangerously.

 _"Emma_ ," the mutant says just behind me. There's a tone of warning (and maybe amusement) in his voice.

 _'What?'_ I hear a voice snap.

I glance around in confusion as the words echo in the air. That was definitely Emma's voice I heard…but her mouth wasn't moving. I look at her curiously but she refuses to return my glance, glowering at the red mutant as her voice continues to echo in the air around me.

 _'Come on, Azazel,_ ' she's saying. _'Even if I wanted to, you know I couldn't hurt the brat. Magneto's orders.'_ Emma says.

Hurt me?! Magneto's orders? Why would he order her not to hurt me? Is it _just_ me or every—

Wait.

Azazel? Is that the Mutants' name?

Why did that suddenly become more important than knowing why I'm hearing voices in my head?

'Whatever,' Emma responds, supposedly to Azazel.

It seems I can only hear her thoughts. Why?

What is happening?!

 _'Listen, Magneto is on his way.'_ Emma continues. _'He just needs to tie up some _loose ends__. _Pick up Janos and bring him here. I'll take care of your_ _ **pet**_ _here in the mean time.'_

Azazel nods once. There's a loud, bamfing sound and a plume of smoke erupts around me. He's teleported again. That's got to get annoying what with all the smoke and that loud-ass noise.

I glance up at Emma with a defiant glare. I'm not gonna lie, her use of the word 'pet' really bugged me. But that's not important right now. What's important is staying alive. Oh, yeah, and trying to figure out when in the hell I started reading minds.

Can I even do that? Or am I just crazy?

Time to find out.

Making sure to think loudly, I say quite a few things that would probably earn me a month in solitary confinement if my mother ever heard me. I'm not just being a dick, I genuinely want to see if she can really hear me and I want affirmation that I can hear her as well.

Emma, however, remains diligently silent. Her anger, though, is not quite as under control. She grabs me roughly by the arm in a surprisingly steely grip and drags me through a set of large, double doors.

They lead to a long hallway filled with other rooms meant for practicing solos and the like. Now, they're apparently being used to house hostages.

Emma throws open the door to the first room she sees, the largest one, and gives me a rough shove inside.

 _'Bitch,'_ I think, straightening up and smoothing out my ruffled shirt.

'Tramp,' Emma retorts right back, breaking her stony silence. I was right! She _can_ hear my thoughts! And I can hear hers! Wait, does that make me a telepath, too? I've never read anyone's mind before—

"My god, would you please be quiet?!" Emma hisses at me aloud. She presses her long fingers into her temples, "You're not a telepath. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hostage. Now, please, stop shouting!"

"I was shouting?"

"Sit. Down."

Something hits me; an invisible force weighting down on my chest and shoulders until I'm left with no other choice but to sit down on the ground. I yelp in surprise.

"You're telekinetic, too?!" I cry out. Why do the bad guys always get the good stuff?

Emma rolls her eyes and folds her arms, "Listen, we aren't here to harm you. Just stay put and try not to make any foolish mistakes you may live to regret. We will return for some of you shortly."

Stunned silence is her only reply.

As soon as the door closes behind her, I realize I'm not alone.

I turn around to see seven of my friends from our little theater troupe in the room, all watching me in shock from the ground where they've huddled up. Then, all at once they get up and surround me. Jessica is the first to attack me in a hug.

"Liz! I was **so** worried about you!" She cries out, nearly strangling me in her hug.

She's a good friend. Shallow but good. At least, I've never had any problems with her other than trying to get her to pay more attention to the news every now and again. But hey, political debate isn't for everyone, I suppose.

"What happened to you, girl?" Terra, the next friend to hug me says, her face flushed from running. "We thought you were with the others."

Terra is as tough as they come. I'm genuinely surprised to see the fearless, blue-haired wonder so shaken, even given the dire circumstances.

"No," I reply, looking around. "Where _are_ the others anyway? Is Glenn with them?"

"I don't know. We assumed he was with the others," Terra admits but before I can ask where the others are, another friend of mine approaches me.

"Liz," Freddy murmurs, pointing down with an ill look on his face. "Your leg."

I look down at my calf where a long cut stretches from the back of my knee to my shin. I quickly look away and lean against the wall, feeling a little nauseous. I'd almost forgotten about that. Of course, now that it's been pointed out, the pain is coming back to me along with a stinging sensation spreading throughout my leg.

"Thanks, Freddy," I groan. "I almost forgot about that."

"Hold on, let me see it," Donovan, Freddy's boyfriend, says quietly, pulling me to the floor so he can get a better look at my leg.

Donovan wants to become a surgeon, and his personality definitely fits the bill for one. He can be clinical at times, so much so that it makes you wonder whether he's in his profession for the money or because on some level he truly does care. Then, things like this happen, reminding you he'll always be there to prove the latter.

I stretch out my leg and hiss when it starts to burn. "Well, Doctor?" I ask after he examines it for a minute.

"It doesn't look too deep."

He shakes his dirty blonde head and looks up at me, green eyes meeting my brown ones with certainty, "You don't need stitches." He tells me. "You could use a wrap though."

"You wouldn't happen to have one on you, would you?" I ask lightly, already knowing the answer.

"No, sorry." Donovan says, but Freddy is right there by his side with a solution, which is pretty surprising for him!

"Here, you can use my jacket," Fred offers, but I'm reluctant to get my blood on his clothes.

"Oh, come on," I object. "It's just like a glorified paper cut!"

But alas, I give up. Knowing him, he won't stop persisting until that jackets' around my leg. As he starts to tie it on, the question on everyone's lips is finally voiced by Jessica, "So, how'd you even _get_ that cut?"

Everyone falls silent, waiting for my answer and I hesitate. I feel awkward, seeing as it wasn't exactly a battle for the ages. In fact, it was more than a little pathetic.

That's not how I'm going to tell it, though!

"I kinda got in a fight," I start, slowly recalling my encounter with _Azazel._ A few murmurs circulate through the room.

"A fight with who?" Jessica probes further. "That blonde woman? She looks scar—"

"Shh!" I say when a familiar sound echoes in my head, like a faint whisper floating down the hall.

"What?" Jessica begins but I cut her off again, saying that I hear something.

 _'...I'm not a_ _nurse_ _, Azazel...'_

A pause. Then.

 _'Well, If you're so concerned, then **you** can patch her up. You __are_ _the one who got too 'carried away'..._

Another, longer pause.

 _'Then I guess you'll have to take it up with Magneto. I'm not surprised. She can read my thoughts. I'm not sure how, I don't think she's a mind reader but regardless, it's all the more reason why_ _ **you**_ _should do it!...'_

So much for keeping my head down.

 _'If **you** don't fix her, I'll have someone __**else**_ _do it for you, like perhaps Sabretooth. He seemed _interested_ in your little pet, too, you know after that boy made such a fuss about her...'_

A short pause.

"Then go. I have _better_ things to do." Emma says out-loud just beyond the door. A moment later, she leaves, her high heels clacking quickly away.

It's quiet.

I'm about to let out my breath, not realizing that I'd been holding it, when Mr. Subtlety teleports right into the room, causing everyone in it, myself included, to jump in shock. Jessica, Donovan, and some other girl I don't really talk to both give a small shriek and hurry to the other end of the room in fear. I remain stationary, already somewhat used to the sound.

Azazel looks down, meeting my eye, and extends a hand to me. I don't take it but I do get up seeing as I already know what he's here for. Azazel opens the door and waits for me to pass through.

"Liz!" Terra whispers fearfully, stepping forward.

Azazel turns his head sharply to look at her, eyes narrowing threateningly. She hesitates.

"It's okay," I say, pausing outside the door. "I'll see you soon." I barely manage to get my words out before Azazel's tail whips out, wrapping around the door knob, and slams the door closed with a bang.

"Whoa, watch that thing! You could hurt someone with that!" I say sarcastically.

He glares at me.

"Come," Azazel commands in that Russian drawl, taking me roughly by the arm. I try to yank it free but he only grips me tighter. "Not this time." He says, pulling me closer.

"You don't trust me?"

"Nyet."

Azazel pulls me to a room at the end of the hall. It's meant for large ensembles, orchestras and choir practices, I think. Azazel seats me in one of the plastic chairs surrounding a podium and settles himself into one across from me. I now notice the small first aid kit in his hand and can't help but feel an amused smile tug at the corner of my mouth.

This must be pretty embarrassing for him.

Too bad.

Azazel pulls one more chair alongside him and reaches his hand down to me.

I hesitate but roll my eyes and lift my leg. His hand wraps around my ankle, then he slowly sets my leg on the chair and moves closer, his hand still holding my ankle firmly, as if to keep me from flying away. I look up and blink, startled. I hadn't realized he'd been watching my face the entire time. I feel heat streak across my face while I instantly begin to wonder if I'd been making a stupid face or something when I wasn't paying attention.

Azazel averts his eyes to the first aid kit, releasing my ankle, but he can't hide the smirk on his face.

I sit back and cross my arms, watching him openly now. He's got a nice face, I'll give him that. He isn't stereotypically handsome or anything, not in a modern chiseled super star kind of way. He's a nice blend of scary, weathered and boyish in a spritely kind of way.

Aaaand I've gone from casually watching him to full-on staring.

I'm about to open my mouth to avoid the awkward silence creeping in when Azazel beats me to it.

"Why do you not tell your friends you are mutant?" He asks bluntly, removing a pair of rather large scissors from the box.

"I—well, I guess for the same reason **you** haven't told me why you're here," I stutter. "They don't really need to know, do they?"

My response is rushed. I'm taken aback by how personal the question was and how easily he was able to tell what I am. I don't exactly give my mutant status away on looks alone. If anything, I look downright average!

I watch Azazel bring the scissors to my jeans and begins to cut the pant leg off at the knee. _And those were new jeans,_ I think to myself. For some odd reason, I want to ask what his name is, even though I already know it.

"You don't want to be." Azazel says, kind of like a question but more like an assumption. After just a moment of confusion, I realize he's talking about being a mutant.

"Of course I do," I object fiercely, though a large part of me feels like that's a tremendous lie. Being a mutant sucks. But having mutant abilities is every kids' dream. Ain't that some shit?

"And I'm not embarrassed by it either," I add. "It's just that—"

I sigh, giving up on trying to explain what I don't even understand myself.

My right leg is now bare as Azazel slides the boot cut sleeve over my shoe and removes it. The sensation causes me to flich. Before I can fully stifle it, I let out the smallest of giggles.

That tickled!

Azazel looks up at me and perks an eye brow. I blush for the second time in the last few minutes and look away, biting back a smile. I see the ghost of a smile flit across his own lips before vanishing once more.

A more comfortable silence falls while he sets the scissors on a nearby chair and takes out some antibiotic cream. I could probably have done this all myself but, hey, free medical care!

"Azazel."

"What?" I ask absently, too busy wondering whether that ointment is going to hurt or not.

"My name is Azazel." Azazel's blue eyes met my dark brown ones unflinchingly. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

I nod, trapped by his gaze.

"Yes, I overheard Emma in her mind somehow. I really don't know how."

I stop talking as Azazel leans over, placing his hand on my shin to apply the antibiotic. The warmth from his hand is soothing, like the heat from a smoldering fire, and I watch to see if red rubs off onto my own skin, but when he moves his hand to my calf there are no marks. But what was I expecting? Finger paint?

I shake my head slightly and ask, "Why can't I hear you? When you and that woman are talking, I mean."

Azazel's steady hand pauses, then resumes a moment later.

"I thought you did," he admits. He thinks a moment, then says, "I don't know. I am not a telepath. Perhaps this is why."

I didn't think I was either. Then again, I've never actually _tried_ (and I mean really tried) to read anyone's mind before. Sometimes you just don't want to know what people are thinking. But maybe, in this case, he's right. Maybe being a telepath automatically makes your thoughts—I don't know—louder to others?

I don't know. My head hurts. As if I don't have enough issues to work out with my _own_ powers.

"Elizabeth," I say after a moment of silence, much like how Azazel did when he told me his name—only he doesn't do the lame thing and ask "What?" after wards. He just looks up at me, blinking once.

"That's my name. Elizabeth," I explain like a total American dumbass.

Azazel just smirks down at my wound, his chest giving an almost undetectable heave, like his version of a scoff.

"I thought so," He says, taking out a gauze pad, tearing a strip of a Cohesive Elastic Bandage.

"Right," I say numbly. Now, I feel _really_ stupid. Of course, he knew my name! He only heard Glenn **and** Terra call me Liz not five minutes ago!

Oh, god. Glenn. Terra. My friends.

What's going to happen to us? I think I may already know.

"You're going to take us away, aren't you?" I ask quietly, not looking at him. I can tell he's looking at me now because his hand pauses once again, right before he starts to wind the bandage around my leg.

"Perhaps," says Azazel shortly. He begins to wrap my leg.

"Why?" I ask, suddenly angry, my head snapping up."What is it you want from us?!"

"I told you I am not to be explaining," Azazel replies simply, not returning my angry tone of voice.

I sigh exasperatedly, saying, "Oh, this "Magneto" is supposed to explain all this." I shake my head, so that my dark, wavy hair sweeps over my shoulders. "This is _bullshit_ —Ah!" I hiss suddenly when I feel my leg burn right where my cut is. I lunge forward, latching onto his hand with mine.

We look up at each other, then I hurriedly pull away and sit back.

Azazel blinks away his surprise and mutters something sharply in Russian. I think it's a cuss word. He unwraps the gauze and removes it altogether.

I look at him questioningly.

"No good," Azazel states tearing off a new strip. "Is wrapped too tight. No good." Azazel repeats starting over with a new gauze pad and bandage. This time, I remain silent until he's done.

Finished, he moves to place the antibiotic away.

I take the moment to lean in, slowly, watching him as I move my newly bandaged leg off the chair to better get up. He stops what he's doing to watch me as I continue forward, so close now that I can smell that smoky scent of brimstone that seems to just emanate off of him. I maintain his gaze evenly, careful not to make any sudden moves.

It isn't until our faces are only a mere five inches away when I spot that small cut on Azazel's lower lip again. I reach out as if to touch it, then think again.

"I'm sorry about your lip," I say softly.

He scoffs, "Is small price to pay for this." He gestures to my leg.

I wave it off and inch forward just a bit more. So close to my target…

Azazel draws in a short breath and I avert my eyes back to his before my gaze can linger any longer on his mouth. I lean to the side just a tiny bit more until my fingers curl around the blade of the scissors at his side. Of course, Azazel quickly catches my wrist before I even lift the scissors off the chair. He stands up bringing me up with him. He's definitely way taller than me.

"Relax," I nearly whisper, slowly pulling my wrist from his grasp while still managing to hold onto the scissors with a tight grip.

Surprisingly, he lets me go.

Once free, I move back slowly into my chair, never breaking my stare into Azazel's entrancingly pale, blue eyes. I have never been so relieved that I didn't fall out of my chair before today. I then prop my good leg up on the chair used to doctor my wounded one and begin to cut the pant leg off of it.

I see Azazel raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye.

"What?" I snap. "They _have_ to match."

Again Azazel gives his little eye roll/flick, smirking slightly (which is probably the only kind of smile I'll likely see out of him from here on out) until I slip off my pant leg to create a nice little pair of capris. Except I hate capris. So, I roll up what's left of my jeans and turn them into shorts.

They're not too shabby either.

Satisfied, I hold out the scissors by the blade until Azazel takes them, putting them neatly back into the first aid kit.

"You should probably take care of that," I comment, gesturing to his lip.

Azazel merely shrugs, absently wiping at the cut with his thumb and forefinger.

"What now?" I ask as he rises from his chair. A loud whistle pierces the air, making me jump. I resist the urge to cover my ears. The hell was that?! Not any fire alarm I've heard before!

"Now, we go see Magneto," Azazel says offering me his hand. This time, I don't refuse and take it.

The whistle stops. Was it to summon him?

"Good," I say firmly as I place my hand tentatively in Azazel's. His long fingers curl over my hand as I stand up. The bandages make my leg feel a bit stiff, and I have to lean on Azazel until I can get the feeling back in my leg.

I meet his eye, then say somberly, "there's a lot of explaining to be done."

* * *

I know, I know!

I promise I won't be as bad as before. I truly enjoy writing and it's been so long since I've had something fun to write. Again, this is a slightly different main character and there IS a reason for that. Most of it has to do with the different choices different people make as well as the series of events that lead them to make the choices they do. Soon enough, you'll see what I mean in the next chapter. Until then!

~THESCRIBE!


	4. Chapter 3: The Choice

**Okay, so (as we'll see in later chapters) this Liz is different because she comes from a different background. I figured that, in order for this character to make such a life-changing decision that's so different from my old fic, she'd have to have a totally different mind set. That means she'd have to have gone through some serious shit in her past in order for her to be more defiant, bold, and, frankly, more intelligent than before. This Liz is not as naive as she was before.**

 **With that in mind, I give you Chapter 3!**

 **I DO NOT own X-men or it's affiliates. Enjoy :D**

Chapter 3: The Choice

When we teleport into the large drama room littered with props and costumes, the first thing I notice is the tall man with the claw-like nails from before. I still haven't seen Glenn since the hall incident and I have no idea if he's even alive at this point. I immediately grow anxious, wanting nothing more than to revert into my Mutant form and _do…_ _something_.

But a voice inside my head says, _'Don't even think about it'_

That voice of course is Emma...Frost, I believe.

 _'_ _Astute,'_ Emma observes. _'Now, never read my mind again, brat.'_

And with that, Emma throws me out of her mind with a mental shove that sends a blinding streak of pain through the back of my head. Blinking against the pain, I make a mental note to stop doing that for now.

Focusing my thoughts back to the room, I become aware of more mutants fanned out in the room. There is one mutant with oddly tinted skin, taking on a greenish hue. He is crouched on the floor, his head twitching about with a vacant look in his eye.

There's also man in a suit equally as fancy as Azazel's with long, brown hair who appears to be bored out of his mind. He's leaning lazily against the wall with his hands in his pockets beside another mutant. This one is a woman with dark hair and a little black outfit that shows off winged tattoos on her arms. She sits on the floor with a laptop on her lap, glancing up only a few times to shoot a look of disgust at the green creature in the corner.

What an odd bunch. They don't seem too threatening to me.

" _So,_ _this_ is the new recruit," a loud voice rumbles, interrupting my thoughts.

The clawed man strides over, a smug look marring his already-brutish features. His hair is a dirty blonde color, shortly cropped military style, and his face is distinctly feral. His eyes are more like those of a predator than a man.

He approaches confidently, growing taller and larger as he does, and I find it hard to keep my eyes off his fingernails. They're freakishly long, yellowish, and distinctly feline.

Rage bubbles in my gut as the mutant takes hold of my jaw, claws digging into my skin as he forces me to look up at him. Everything about the look on his face makes me hate him instantly, and I have to fight the urge to spit in his face as he croons.

"Can't imagine why you'd want her, Em," he adds with a slight chuckle, tilting my head to the side. "Not very threatening, is she?"

"If you don't tell me where Glenn is, I'll show you just how threatening I can be!" I snarl back without thinking.

I regret it instantly.

The man's claws pinch into my jaw harder and he lets out a low growl.

"Creed…" Azazel mutters quietly, a warning.

"Shut it, Red," the man, Creed, snaps. "The frail wants to know where her friend is. I ouight to show her what I did with 'im. Don't you think?"

Suddenly, Azazel yanks on my arm, drawing me back and away from Creed's grasp.

"Leave her," Azazel orders. "She is to speak with Magneto."

The two exchange a look – a strange look. They're sizing each other up, no doubt about it. And yet, there's something else there; a bitterness stemming from a mutual dislike for one another. I'm just glad I'm no longer in between them!

"Enough, both of you," Emma's voice suddenly booms from inside the room. She walks in with two other very obvious mutants in tow. "Let's not waste another moment in this poor excuse for an institution, please."

On a normal day, I would have laughed at the man who just entered the room.

He's decked out in a ridiculous red and purple suit with a dramatic cape and a large, metal helmet ensnared around his entire head. There's only a small window for his face to peek through.

Yes, on a normal day, I might have laughed. But for some reason, I find myself surprisingly intimidated by the sheer sense of power and authority he seems to radiate. His hands are clasped behind his back and his deep blue eyes take me in with one cool, calculating glance.

This must be Magneto.

Magneto turns his tin-head to the side, towards Emma, and she looks back significantly. They seem to be talking telepathically to one another and I know they're 'talking' about me.

"So, Elizabeth," Magneto says approaching me slowly. He makes a small waving motion with his hand and Azazel releases me, moving to the rest of the group and away from me without so much as a backward glance. I can't help but feel even more helpless and exposed in his absence.

"Emma tells me that you are a mutant." Magneto adds, scrutinizing me with those steely eyes.

"I am," I reply flatly, returning his hard stare despite my fear, but he only continues to study me thoughtfully.

"She also tells me that you already suspect what it is we are here for," He states, prompting a reply.

I give no answer, as my assumptions were merely private guesses and I prefer facts rather than gossip. From the moment these low-lives came, I knew they meant to hunt down and kidnap any mutants they discovered. I thought if I just kept my head down and escaped, they wouldn't notice me.

Unfortunately, I hadn't anticipated the damned telepath.

He gives a sudden smirk and says, "Well, then you are very bright. But let me inform you that this decision is all yours."

I frown, confused.

"Decision?"

"Yes. You can choose to either join us, or not."

"Join you?!"

I'm taken aback. What in the world-? Why would I _ever_ join a group of freaks how go around to colleges terrorizing mutants and humans alike? Don't they know how bad that makes _all_ of us look?! Am I really expected to believe all those missing mutants volunteered to join this guy?

If so, then, where are they?

I know I need to say something but I don't know what. This is clearly an ultimatum, so I might as well know all my options.

"And if I refuse?" I ask just as I did with Azazel previously, only with a slightly more dangerous tone.

I look around, waiting for the right moment to make a run for it. I might be able to get past him and Emma, but I won't make it far with Azazel's abilities and the clawed guy watching my every move, almost like he's _hoping_ I'll try to make a run for it.

"Then, you will not be one of us," Magneto replies simply, sweeping out a hand to his cohorts behind him, like they are his family. I try not think back to Glenn, but I can't help but I wonder what his decision was – if he was even given a choice.

"And then there is your friend, _Glenn Kavi,_ " Magneto adds and I know Emma has once again read my mind, but it still comes as a shock. Glenn wouldn't join these guys! Glenn always talked so much about the Xavier Institute—

"Yes, Glenn was indeed thinking of attending that pathetic excuse for a school," Magneto says, interrupting my thoughts. "But we changed his mind."

"Then, where is he?" I snap aggressively before my thoughts can be exposed any further.

"I had Azazel drop him off at **my** institute," Is Magneto's smooth reply. "We didn't want to cause any trouble between him and the _humans_."

There's something about the way he said, 'the humans' that troubles me; so malicious, so angry. But I shake it off, thinking about how Glenn and I were planning to leave for the Xavier Institute together. His powers would have been able to get us both there in twice the time I could have. But if he really has gone to _their_ side, what will I do now?

"Ms. Hawthorne, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Your friend made his choice, no you, too, must make yours. Will you join us," Magneto asks once more, holding out his hand for mine, eyes challenging. "Or not?"

Glenn and I were supposed to go to the Institute together. I don't know what I'd do without him. I have nothing else in my life worth sticking around for if he isn't here with me. I don't want to be alone. What other choice do I have?

I hesitate a moment before I make up my mind.

What else can I do? I have to learn to control my powers somehow, and I was intending to leave this place anyway. But I can't do it without Glenn. No, I _won't_ do it without Glenn.

I'm about to put my hand in Magneto's when there's a tremendous crash from across the hall.

Without missing a beat, Azazel disappears, leaving behind a cloud of smoke and fire, before returning a moment later, restraining someone in his arms.

Donovan.

Before I can say anything, Magneto speaks up.

"What is this?" He demands.

Another mutant stalks in, her dark blue scales shimmering in the fluorescent light of the drama room. The woman stands out like you wouldn't believe, not just due to her blue skin, firey red hair and striking yellow eyes. No, this mutant is also stark naked, making every other mutant in the room look like they're dressed for the North Pole.

And here I was harping on Emma's outfit!

"Another mutant," The blue woman says to Magneto, looking at Donovan in distain. "A healer, I suspect."

Magneto looks at him for a while, blue eyes taking in my friend with calculative interest, before asking, "How do you know?"

"I overheard him tell the others in his little group."

The woman sneers at my terrified friend before crossing over to Magneto. She eyes me briefly but makes no comment on me.

Azazel follows her with Donovan in tow. The red mutant glances at me but his expression is unreadable.

"But if he is a healer, why are you hurt?" Magneto inquires, his eyes going up to the blue woman's hairline where a cut shines brightly on her forehead.

"One of his friend's hit me when I tried to bring him to you."

Without warning, she strikes Donovan in the head, making him cringe in fear. I take a threatening step forward, my eyes flashing, but Magneto holds out an arm to stop me, catching me in the abdomen. I stop but remain glaring, daring her to strike him again. She sneers at me but again does not address me.

Okay, I _definitely_ didn't like that. Maybe these people's intentions aren't as good as I thought. Not surprising, seeing as they didn't exactly come here with an invitation and a house warming gift. And I was going to join them why?

No way. There's no way Glenn would do it. Why would I?

"Now, Mystique," Magneto says patiently, dropping his arm from me as he affectionately caresses her face with a gloved hand. "We must learn how to control your temper for when it's needed. Besides, we don't want to frighten away our new recruits, do we?"

Mystique places her hand over his, returning his warm gaze.

"Of course not," Mystique says dreamily and places a kiss on his lips; real romantic.

I feel like I shouldn't even be here right now. I'm _way_ too close to all this PDA. Thankfully, before things become too uncomfortable, Magneto pulls away.

"Now, then," Magneto says looking to Donovan, giving Azazel the hand gesture to have him release him. "You're a healer, are you not?"

Too scared to answer, Donovan nods, flicking his eyes to me so quickly that I can't even give him a reassuring gaze or even a smile.

"Don't be afraid," Magneto says to Donovan softly. "We're here to help you. We want to help you control your powers and use them to your full potential."

I narrow my eyes, thinking to myself, _Sure you do._

"What do you say?"

Suddenly, as if under a spell, Donovan's face relaxes, his shoulders dropping from his ears to their rightful place, and he straightens himself out to his full height at 5' 10''.

"I—I guess so. Liz?" Donovan asks looking to me with wide, confused eyes. Why is he acting so strangely? Is the telepath influencing him?

I cut a glare at Frost, but she too seems intent on ignoring me now.

"It's your choice, Donovan," I say quietly, but my eyes are on Magneto.

" _Although_ ," I add. "Perhaps we ought to explore all of our options before we make any quick decisions."

I think I may have been over hasty in my willingness to hand myself over to this guy. It's clear these people aren't on our side here.

"That sounds fair, doesn't it," I narrow my eyes challengingly, _"Magneto_?"

"The Xavier Institute is filled with nothing but dreamers and fools chasing a false reality in the hopes of living in a fantasy that never will exist," the metal clad mutant replies tensely. "We believe in our _reality._ We intend to not only survive in this world, but make it our own."

 _That's it,_ I think to myself. _Whatever this man has planned, I_ _ **refuse**_ _to be a part of it._

"All my life, I've wanted a place to call my own. A place where I am no longer an outsider," I murmur softly, glancing around at the group like I'm trying to seem earnest, when really, I'm just looking for a way out of here. But we're so tightly surrounded, its' not looking good.

"A place where I can learn to _control_ this gift," I continue slowly, "where it will no longer be seen as a curse in the eyes of the ones I love. I just want to be safe and free and _loved._ " If I could just get past Azazel, I might make it to the parking lot. But even if I _did_ get past him, how would I handle the telepath?

That's it, I'm not getting out of here. But I'll be damned if I'm going to give in to their demands. _They're_ the reason the humans fear us. _They're_ the ones who make it impossible for us to live among them. Fuck them. Fuck this.

"But that—" I look Magneto dead in the eye and say evenly, "Just isn't _my_ reality."

Their faces are nothing short of stunned. None more so than Magneto. The others just look at me like I'm crazy (all except for the grinning wolfman chuckling darkly in the corner) and maybe I am. But I'm definitely not stupid.

"I _know_ who you really are," I continue heatedly, stepping right up to the much taller mutant, seemingly, without fear. "I _know_ what you want. You don't want to help us. You want to _weaponize_ us; turn us into your property to use and abuse whenever you like!"

Magneto's eyes narrow and the false look of welcome turns into a deadly look of warning. I should probably stop, but I can't seem to.

"I can see it in your eyes," I accuse. "People have been looking at me like that my entire life. You really thought I wouldn't be able to see it now? You don't want us to live in peace. You want war. You want to hurt people and you want to use us and _them_ ," I point to his cohorts, Azazel and Frost included, "to do it!"

Magneto takes a step forward and leans down, inclining his head forward as he murmurs dangerously, "I think you don't fully understand the position you're in."

I take a decisive step back and say with finality, "I understand all too well."

Magneto sighs with the slight shake of his head and waves his hand as he turns his back to me. His entire demeanor turns cold and dismissive, like ultimately it never really mattered anyway.

"Very well," He says. "Restrain her."

* * *

 _What are you waiting for?! Go to chapter 4 already!_

 _~THESCRIBE!:D_


	5. Chapter 4: And So It Begins

**You already know the drill. I don't own X-Men or it's affiliates. I'm just a dork with, apparently, too much time on her hands. As always, thanks and enjoy :D**

Chapter 4: And So It Begins

"I can see it in your eyes," I accuse. "People have been looking at me like that my entire life. You really thought I wouldn't be able to see it now? You don't want us to live in peace. You want war. You want to hurt people and you want to use us and _them_ ," I point to his cohorts, Azazel and Frost included, "to do it!"

Magneto takes a step forward and leans down, inclining his head forward as he murmurs dangerously, "I think you don't fully understand the position you're in."

I take a decisive step back and say with finality, "I understand all too well."

Magneto sighs with the slight shake of his head and waves his hand as he turns his back to me. His entire demeanor turns cold and dismissive, like ultimately it never really mattered anyway.

"Very well," He says. "Restrain her."

What?

A hand grabs me by the back of my head and jerks me backward. Almost at the same time, someone takes my arm and wrenches it up behind my back. I give a strangled cry, but before I can even begin to fight back, the ground suddenly rises to meet me. I hit the ground hard and flail madly. A knee comes down on my lower back so hard, I can't even cry out properly. I cease my thrashing almost instantly.

Luckily, the one they call Sabertooth only weighs me down hard enough to make sure I'm subdued before he relieves some of his weight. He lays one hand on my head while the other continues to hold my arm flush against my back. I drag in a ragged breath as some of the pressure on my spine is released.

I can't quite see what's happening but I can hear Donovon screaming while Magneto says high, high above me, "A pity. Frost seemed to think you had some serious potential."

"What are you gonna do with her!?" Donovon screams.

Sabertooth speaks up before Erik has the chance to.

"Yeah, Lehnsherr," he growls above me, "what _are_ we gonna do? I'd be more th'n happy to take her off your hands."

"No!" Is all I can manage to gasp under the given strain. A jolt of fear rushes through my chest at Creed's words.

 _What could he want with me?_ I wonder in a panic, still struggling to breathe properly. The guy weighs a ton! _I thought they were all in the same boat here! Either way, I'd rather not find out his reasons for wanting to 'take me off their hands.'_

Sabretooth's hand presses down harder on my head, preventing me from speaking out any further, but it's Magneto's silence that scares me the most. And I'm not alone.

"Erik…" Frost mutters, actually sounding kind of concerned.

She continues her speech via telepathy, _'You're not_ _really_ _going to let him?'_

Her words float around my head once more and I can't help but feel grateful for them. She's actually defending me. Maybe she's not so bad after all.

"She made her choice," _Erik_ replies aloud. His voice is stern, but something in his tone tells me he hasn't quite made up his mind yet.

"She is asset," Azazel speaks up, surprising me even more than Emma. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just make him out. I can't see his facial expression, but his hand is on Erik's arm and his tone is calm and persuasive. "We can't afford to lose her."

Erik jerks away and I can feel the mammoth on top of me growing restless. His weight shifts and I wheeze in response.

 _Please, make up your mind already,_ I think to myself desperately. _I'm going to pass out any second._

"We will see about that," Erik mutters. He glares down at me and asks, "Won't we?"

I know what he's saying.

I glower at him in response. He wants something out of me. But I'm not about to give it to him. Even so, there seems to be _something_ that makes him wave his hand and say, "Bing her and bring her to the estate. I want her in a cell and I want to know _exactly_ what she can do. _Immediately._ "

A growl so low I almost couldn't tell what it was at first resonates from Sabretooth's massive form, followed by a threatening, "Lehnsherr…"

 _Magneto_ is unfazed, "If you cannot manage it then I will appoint someone better suited to the task," he says. "Or do we have a problem, Victor?"

The two stare each other down and I feel _Victor's_ grip on me slacken as he starts to rise to Erik's subtle challenge. Thankfully, before any blood can be shed (and I can be trampled in the process), Azazel asks off-handedly, "What of this one?"

Donovan gives a start, some of the color returning to his face as the attention veers away from me and returns to him.

"Ahh, yes!" Magneto croons, completely forgetting about me for the moment to address the only other prisoner-to-be in the room.

This leaves Victor to his task.

His hand leaves my hair, allowing me freer movement of my head and neck, while he removes a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

"You got hell comin' for you where your goin'," Creed mutters under his breath while Erik tosses the same pitch he tried with me at Donovan.

I groan as my other arm is wrenched behind my back and my wrists are shackled together, " _Oh,_ so you mean to tell me you're trying to _help_ me?" I mutter right back before adding with a scoff, "You're a worse liar than Bucket Head."

He chortles at that, hoisting me to my feet with remarkable ease, allowing me to breathe properly at last.

"Give it a week," He murmurs far too close for my comfort, his clawed hand grasping the crook of my neck in a vice-like grip. "You'll see."

I jerk my head away and, in doing so, my gaze finds Azazel's. His look is indecipherable but his pale blue eyes are so sharp, they could kill. "Yeah," I reply tensely, unable to look away from those icy blues. "I guess I will."

" _Stop it!_ " Donovan's voice distracts us both. I look up in time to see him trying to pull away from a forcibly grabbing Mystique as she and the long haired guy in the purple suit try to subdue him. "I _won't_ do it! Liz is right. You don't wanna help us at all!"

"Enough of this!" Magneto thunders irately. His entire plan seems to be going to hell right before his eyes.

I watch in alarm as Magneto raises his hand and, while I don't yet know what he can do, I can feel a shift in the energy around us and I know it can't be good.

And Donovan is right in the line of fire.

"NO!"

I rear up against the six-foot-something giant behind me, and lash out with my legs. My reach is just good enough to knock the metal man into a nearby desk, but that's all I can do before I'm quickly subdued again by an arm slinging across my throat, dragging me away from my target.

"You leave him alone!" I choke out, still thrashing furiously. "Don't you _fucking_ touch h—!" My words are cut off immediately by a strip of metal from one of the chairs suddenly welding itself to my mouth. A metal gag.

Metal powers.

Duh. Of course a guy named Magneto would have metal powers.

My words turn to mush in my mouth as a dull pain blooms where the metal smacked against my lips, striking teeth. Next, Erik turns his sights on Donovan. He lifts a hand and uses the remaining metal on the chair to bind Donovan similarly, only his arms are pinned to his sides and his legs have also been tethered together.

Erik lowers his arm, shaking off a concerned Mystique as he pants venomously, "We're done here. Let's go."

Donovan and I are shoved off towards the other mutants in the group. We seem to be the only two who were discovered at our college. Small town, I guess. Either that or the others like us are way better at hiding than we are.

The group converges, joins hands and prepares to teleport. In the few moments before we do, I start to panic. My heart races in my throat, my eyes grow wide and my mouth turns dry. Where are we going? What's going to happen? What will they do with us?

And worse yet: who's going to care?

My home, my friend, my family…who's going to care about another missing mutant?

And with that troubling thought, we vanish into darkness.

* * *

 _That's all for now, folks! Join me in the next chapter coming soon! I promise I'll update as soon as I can._

 _~THESCRIBE!_


	6. Chapter 5: Whose Side (Part One)

**Happy 4th, those of you in the U.S.! Here's some new chapters. Enjoy:D**

 **I Do NOT own X-Men or it's affiliates. Thanks!**

Chapter 5: Whose Side (Part One)

The teenagers and adults alike scream at us as we pass by. Donovan is practically being carried by Azazel while I'm being dragged along by Sabertooth. A teen with short, golden locks even more wild than mine shouts a stream of obscenities as we stop in front of a cell diagonal from her own. Captives. Like us.

Azazel continues on with Donovan, casting me a vague, sidelong glance. His eyes flick between myself and Sabertooth, before he disappears swiftly down the hall.

I try to memorize the code number as Sabertooth opens the cell, but I only catch the first three numbers before I'm roughly shoved inside. The force of the shove sends me to the ground, and, with nothing to slow my fall, I hit the floor shoulder and knees first.

I groan, the gag having fallen off once I was out of Magneto's reach, but quickly scramble to get up as the mutant approaches me. Before I can leap to my feet, I feel his hand latch onto the nape of my neck.

For a moment, he holds me there, motionless. The only sounds that fill the room are my own sporadic breaths and his deep, nearly-silent inhalations. Then, just when I'm beginning to panic, his other hand curls around my upper arm and he hefts me to my feet. I start to turn, still alarmed at that very frightening moment of uncertainty, but am halted when I feel Victor's hands take hold of the cuffs around my wrists.

Rather than unlock them with (oh, I don't know) _a key,_ he simply tears them apart with a rough jerk. That's right. _Tears_ them, leaving only the metal bands around my wrists, probably so that Metal Head can have something to grab if I try to escape. Clever.

"Super strength," I marvel somewhat jealously, testing out my new bracelets to see how much room I have to move my hands around. It turns out to be quite a bit actually! But not enough to slip my hand through. "Lucky you."

"And what can _you_ do, frail?" He scoffs at me. "Other than run your mouth and get yourself in trouble?"

I stiffen. I half-turn, taking in his size, his height, the broadness of his shoulders and intensity in his glare. Why is he even still here?

"Why do _you_ want to know?"

He takes a step closer, and I take an involuntary step back. He really _is_ huge. That coupled with his super strength, claws and fangs makes him a dangerous opponent. If I'm attacked, there wouldn't be much of a fight.

His voice is low and threatening as he says, "I'm not gonna ask again, frail."

 _There's that name again: Frail. What the hell is_ **that?** _A pet name?!_

I glance past him, only just noticing the prisoner across from me has begun to look on curiously, but I quickly revert my eyes to Sabertooth, narrowing them challengingly. I remain stubbornly, decidedly silent. I'm not making this easy for them.

They want to know what my powers are? Tough.

"Lehnsher was right," the creep rumbles, advancing on me until I'm backed against the wall. "You really _don't_ understand what's goin' on here." He leans down, _way_ down, his breath trailing down my neck, and growls, "You're not in any position to refuse."

"Last time I checked, _you're_ just a henchman," I growl back, growing more nervous every passing moment, which somehow doesn't dissuade me from running my mouth, "A _goon_. Even if I _did_ talk, it wouldn't be to anyone's _lacky._ "

I make a conscious effort not to groan in pain when the back of my head meets the wall, secured there by the hand around my throat. My effort pays off. Even so, I have to grit my teeth against the pain of it. Sabertooth, on the other hand, can barely contain his rage. But, in doing so, it only serves to prove my point.

"I'm no _lacky._ " He hisses, his face mere inches from mine.

"Aren't you?" I practically whisper back with just as much venom.

Anger, shock, and a slight look of amusement flicker across his features, all wrapped up in a single chuckle. Yet, he doesn't let go or move away. A look of intent settles across his face and his weight on me increases. I move my hand up to push him away only to have it caught and pinned back against the wall.

"Let me go, henchie," I mutter, trying unsuccessfully to hide the fear in my voice. "I'm not above screaming for help."

"Screaming, huh?"

Sabertooth perks up, flashing his fangs again with a grin. "Wonder what it'd take to get one out of you. A real one. Maybe I'll do Lensherr a favor and put you in your place right here and now."

I brace myself for a fight, which would pretty much consist of me delivering a single kick to the groin area and then screaming for help. I'm preparing to do just that when the sound of the cell door reopening catches my attention.

"What are you doing?" Is Azazel's quiet question.

He doesn't approach nor does he take a fighting stance (not that I'd really expect him to or anything) but his posture is tense. The red mutant's spaded tail swishes behind him erratically. _Swish,swish,swish_.

" _Your_ _job,_ " Sabertooth snaps back, glancing over his shoulder. "Apparently."

"You should go," the red mutant presses urgently, stepping further into the room. "Our _mutal friend_ will be expecting your report."

"And he'll get it."

Creed turns back to me, his grip tightening around my throat. I shrink away slightly and cringe when he brings his hand up to my cheek and presses one of his claws in hard enough to draw blood.

"Soon as I'm done."

A bamf and a plume of smoke later, and Azazel is suddenly there holding a blade longer than my entire forearm poised to the other mutants' midsection."Not like this," says Azazel.

Just when I'm starting to feel terribly caught in the middle, Sabertooth suddenly drops me and shoves Azazel back, knocking him into the wall with extreme force.

"You tellin' me what to do, Red?"Creed scoffs, then adds, "'r maybe you just want this one fer yourself."

"You jeopardize this mission!" Azazel hisses, drawing his blade in close while his tail thrashes.

I take the moment to back away towards the makeshift bed in the corner, wondering what the hell is going on. There's nowhere to hide and no way to fight them. Unless I use my powers…

No, no. That's stupid. I'd still be helpless. Looks like I'm stuck here. But seriously, what the fuck is going on here?! I thought these guys were on the same team and now they're—what?— _fighting about who gets to terrorize me_ _?_ And who is this 'mutual friend?' Could it be they work for someone _else?_ Or was that Magneto guy not the one in charge after all?

"Is as you said," Azazel continues, "this is _my_ job. You should have gone by now."

Gone? So this Sabertooth guy is just a hired hand. But why does Azazel want him gone so badly?

"Can't afford to wait any longer. We're movin' forward on this sooner than later. And I have the feelin' _this one_ won't be so easy to crack."

" _This one,_ " I interrupt tensely. "Is still here. And can hear _everything_ you're saying. Not that I have any fucking idea what you're on about."

They stop and turn to stare at me.

I cross my arms and ask, "Now, is someone going to be explaining, or are we just gonna pretend I'm not here?"

The one called Sabertooth looks me up and down, a smirk curling his lips, before rumbling, "You're gonna wish you're not."

"You keep saying that," I observe, "but as far as I've seen, your little _gang_ here isn't very organized. Makes me wonder: Who's the leader here?"

I know I'm playing a dangerous game. But I need to know what I'm up against. I'm in deep shit. The sooner I can find out what's going on, the better.

"I don't see how that's any a' your business, frail," says Sabertooth.

"It _became_ my business when _you_ kidnapped me." I retort heatedly, glaring at first him, then at Azazel, who seems to be the only one defending me here at the moment, and say deliberately, "I have _every_ right to know who is doing this to me!"

"You would do best to leave this alone," Azazel quips, trashing my earlier assumption that he was here to defend me in _any_ way. "You are _prisoner._ You will know what _we_ tell you. No more. No less. And you will stay _quiet_ as well." He adds, jabbing a finger at me, "Understand?"

A flash of hurt crosses my face but I stow it before it can register.

"If I didn't know any better," I say quietly. "I'd say you're hiding something."

The two look at me, both tense but unsure of what to do.

Then, Creed lets out a chuckle and says to Azazel, "What'd I tell you? Gonna take more th'n scare tactics to break this one."

He starts approaching me again. I draw myself back on instinct and Azazel makes a move forward. Before anyone has the chance to take action, however, the clacking of heels grabs everyone's attention.

Emma Frost, a surprisingly welcome sight in my eyes, strides in front of my cell and takes in the situation for one full minute before stating, "Get out. Both of you."

Azazel, after a moment of hesitation, teleports away with a nod. Frost turns to Sabertooth next, who hasn't quite left yet, then nods her head towards the door, "Collect your pay and go," she tells him.

He scoffs, but raises his hands mockingly in surrender and leaves the room. As his feet pound down the hallway, I hear him growl, "Catch ya' later."

Gee, I wonder who he's talking about...

The second he leaves, Emma gives a sniff of revulsion, "Disgusting," she mutters.

"I'm guessing you read their minds," I inquire, my hand going to my cheek once more. The tiny cut on my cheek has begun to clot already but when I take back my hand, I still find blood. Almost without thinking, the telepath approaches, removing a cloth from her bosom and hands it to me.

"Unfortunately," she says as I tentatively take the warm material in my hand. Gross. Booby warmth... "As if I needed to. All men only have one thing on their minds."

" _That's_ a little sexist," I joke with a smirk.

She blinks at me, startled by my friendliness, and I take the moment to catch her off guard even more by saying, "Thank you for speaking on my behalf earlier. I thought that guy was really gonna give me up like some kind of…"

I stop, sighing, then say, "Thanks."

"So," I continue when she doesn't respond. "You going to interrogate me now or something?"

"Hm, not yet. You and I will have our sessions soon enough. But as you've already guessed, interrogation isn't _my only_ job around here."

"Then, what is?" I challenge, certain a telepath would be a superb interrogator.

A tiny smile tilts her mouth, "Torture."

I blanch.

"Torture? Why torture?!" I exclaim. "You're a telepath, you can just read my mind."

"Why simply extract your secrets when I can test your mettle and draw them out of you instead?"

"That's—that's insane!"

I can't tell them what I can do. I just can't. The moment I do, they'll determine my usefulness. That either means they'll try to use me for a weapon, or (if my powers to deemed too threatening or troublesome to them), they might get rid of me. I have to hold on to my secret for as long as I can until I can figure out how to escape from here.

I just need to stall long enough to do that.

"Well," says Emma. "You can always save yourself the trouble (and a considerably amount of pain) by telling me what I want to know now."

I fall decidedly silent.

"Perhaps you need to think over your options a bit longer," says Emma. "You have an hour. Choose wisely."

And with that, Emma turns on her heel and leaves.

* * *

 **What the hell is going on here? Only time will tell. See you in the next chapter!**

 **~THESCRIBE!:D**


	7. Chapter 6: Whose Side (Part Two)

**I Do NOT own X-Men or it's affiliates. Thanks and, as always, Enjoy:D**

Chapter 6: Whose Side (Part Two)

 _Previously:_

 _A tiny smile tilts her mouth, "Torture."_

 _I blanch._

 _"_ _Torture? Why torture?! You're a telepath, you can just read my mind."_

 _"_ _Why simply extract your secrets when I can test your mettle and draw them out of you instead?"_

 _"_ _That's—that's insane!"_

 _"_ _Well, you can always save yourself the trouble (and a considerably amount of pain) by telling me what I want to know now."_

 _I fall decidedly silent._

 _"_ _Perhaps you need to think over your options a bit longer," says Emma. "You have an hour. Choose wisely."_

 _And with that, Emma turns on her heel to leave._

"It won't work on me!" I burst out suddenly, halting her just outside the door. "I-I'm stronger than most. I can hear your thoughts, too! That's why you want me to just spill my guts."

"My dear," Emma coos. "You're going to tell us what we want to know regardless of how we get it out of you. The choice is yours."

"It won't work," I repeat. I'm trying to sound strong but my legs are shaking and my voice trembles. "I-I'll fight. I'll— **Aaaaaugghh!** "

Without warning, Emma attacks me telepathically. A blinding light streaks across my brain like someone's impaled me with a hot poker. Along with it comes a barrage of memories flashing before me from my past: An hours-long lecture with my Mom, a look of disgust from my sister, and a heated fight with my Dad.

A stabbing pain (like that of a severe migraine) assaults my brain and a brief jolt of nausea doubles me over.

 _" '_ _Freak!' "_

The word dragged from my own mind echoes in my head long after Emma has gone and I uncurl my hands from my hair, panting heavily and shaking all over. I'm on the floor on my knees, the white, booby cloth still clenched in my fist.

And I'm not alone.

A red face peers down at me from way above me. A curious brow arches and a question emerges along with it.

"What did you see?" Asks a remarkably soft, yet clear voice, glazed with distinctly Russian overtones.

I breathe in heavily, stomach still rolling. Emma wasn't joking in the slightest. That was some of the most intense pain I've ever had in my life. And those memories…I haven't thought about them in so long. Jesus.

I glance up at Azazel through a curtain of wild, curly hair as I struggle to my feet.

"Is this part of the interrogation?" My question comes out quiet, weak. I'm obviously incredibly shaken but I don't want to show it.

Azazel shrugs, watching me sit back down on the bed on shaking legs, "Is a process." He tells me.

"Why doesn't she just take what she wants from me, then?" I challenge, head pounding from her attack. "She obviously can."

"She will."

I frown at him and wait for him to elaborate.

"You are strong. Stronger than most." Says Azazel. "But fear, pain; it makes the mind weak."

"Ah, I see," I say. "And now _you're_ going to scare me into giving up all my dirty little secrets?"

I toss a pained smirk at him. His look remains cool, his eyes crinkling faintly with humor, but there's a deadly look to them. One that probably should've motivated me to keep from saying what I do next.

"If Frost can't even do it without trying to scare them out of me, what makes you think you—" My words trail off as that blade resurfaces from behind Azazel's back, drawn by a slow and steady hand. "Can?"

Oh.

"You can't kill me." I nearly whisper, his eyes locking mine in a strange kind of hold. He takes a step forward. With nowhere to go, I'm forced to stay right where I am. "And you don't scare me," I lie, "You may as well just send in the telepath now. Save you both the trouble."

He stops before me, moving his hand up in an arc so the blade swings up over his forearm. It flashes against the fluorescent lights of my cell. The damned thing could probably split me in half with one swing!

"Emma is needed elsewhere," Azazel states evenly. He catches my eye while spins the blade once over the flat of his arm before curving it around his forearm in a resting position once more. He did all this without dropping or fumbling it once. Precision. He _definitely_ knows how to use that thing.

Azazel suddenly moves onto the bed and presses the blade against my throat. A yelp of terror catches in my throat.

"I don't have to use violence to get answers," he murmurs softly as I shrink away from his knife's edge. He moves it closer while his free hand goes to my injured leg. "This does not mean I can't."

I wince and bite back a whimper when he suddenly applies pressure to the wound, effectively reopening it.

"Or won't."

" _Hay!_ " I hear a voice call out sharply.

I shift my eyes to the side, unable to move my head with the blade digging into my neck. It's the curly haired girl in the cell diagonal from mine.

"You leave her alone!" The girl screams at Azazel. "Don't hurt 'er!"

Her cry is met by those of countless others, shouting for him to leave me alone, pick on someone his own size, etc...They're all defending me. A complete stranger. There's so many of them down here!

"Looks like you're not very popular around here," I remark. I inhale sharply with the pinch of Azazel's fingers on my injury. It's bleeding again. I meet his blue eyes, startled by their quiet ferocity.

He lifts a finger off the hilt of his blade and touches my lip. "I am not asking again," he whispers in that no-longer-adorable accent of his. Azazel leans in, ignoring the protests of my fellow captives, and mutters threateningly, " _What did you see, divochka?_ "

I can't tell if he's bluffing. He'd been relatively kind to me before now. I'd been mistaken in thinking even for a moment that he might sympathize with me in any way. He's my enemy. Just like the rest of them. And, if I'm going to make it out of this alive, I need to play my cards right.

"My family," I say quietly, "I saw images of my family from when I told them I was a mutant." I glance away, angry. "Not that _you_ care."

He doesn't let up, "What happens?"

"What _happened?_ " I repeat, figuring the guy could use an English lesson.

I inhale, shifting uncomfortably. I want this to stop. Now. This is stuff I haven't talked about in a long time, let alone to a complete stranger currently threatening my life.

"Well," I sigh, trying to move back only to be met by a wall, "I honestly don't see how that's any of your business or what it has to do with why I'm here."

He raises his eyebrows, a wicked smirk curling his lips, "Victor was right." He says. "It _will_ take more to break you."

"You'd be surprised by what I can take," I fire right back, growing angry and restless.

I cave in once again, deciding this was something I could allow to be known for now.

"You really wanna know what that memory was about?" I hesitate, tears threatening to spring to my eyes. I blink them back into place. "When my dad found out I was a mutant, he stopped seeing me as his daughter. I was a ghost. A fucking poltergeist that just wouldn't disappear. Every time I tried to live my life like a normal person, he made sure I knew it was wrong, sometimes with his fists. My mom and sister? They looked away every time. Same dumb story you've probably heard a million times."

Of course, there was more to the whole situation than that. They were always caught between wanting to ignore what I was and wanting to force me to be something else. As time went on, things only got worse.

I grit my teeth against the memories, then mutter, "Now, will you let me go? My leg fuckin' hurts."

Surprisingly, Azazel lets me go.

"Your powers," he says evenly, rising off the bed. "Tell me about them."

I sit up, watching him observe the blood (my blood) on his hand. It makes his skin look like a water color painting that hasn't finished drying yet. I extend my hand and hold out the red-smeared handkerchief from Emma's tits.

He gives me a strange look that almost looks sarcastic, but he approaches, and gently takes it regardless. I observe my leg and find that I've bled through my bandages. Great. If these people don't kill me, an infection surely will.

"There's not much to tell." I lie, getting up tenderly.

I'd initially thought the bed might set a boundary or something, but clearly boundaries don't exist for these assholes. I'll have a better chance of fighting back on my feet. "Can't control them anyway. I'm practically useless."

He sighs, weighing the blade in his hand. Not the answer he was looking for.

"You have not attacked me," Azazel observes. He raises his eye brows, inhaling deeply like I'm an unruly teenager that needs a firm talking to. "But this does not mean you are unable. You _will_ tell me," He gives me a scary look, taking an offensive stance with the blade held firmly in his grasp, but, somehow, I just don't buy it when he says, "Or I will assume you mean to attack me."

I don't give up so easily, "You'd know it if I were going to attack you," I mutter, taking a challenging step forward. I know I'm just feeling brave because I now have a crowd of prisoners rallying behind me. I know I'm treading on some dangerous waters. And yet, I feel driven to stand my ground.

His eyes narrow slightly, the smirk fading. He's getting annoyed with me. He isn't getting his way. Good.

He advances on me but I stand strong, staring up at him defiantly as his chest meets mine. A deep scowl presses into his mouth, a small cut still on his lower lip from where I popped him earlier, and growls in a low undertone, "I am not a patient man."

"And I don't give a good goddamn," I hiss, inclining my head forward, fists curling at my sides. "You can't do anything to me better men haven't already done."

Not entirely true, but it sure sounded good.

And better yet, he buys it! He seems to be weighing his options, probably thinking he'll never get to me if he _does_ hurt me.

He reaches out, taking me by the front of my shirt. I flinch, staring up into his face with wide, panicked eyes. He stares at me for a long time and I stare right back. I can't help but feel confused. Was this all meant to be a huge bluff from the beginning or does he really just not want to hurt me?

Due to the cold, emptiness of his stare, it's impossible to tell.

Eventually, he gives up and leaves. But not before lowering his head down to mine and whispering these lovely parting words in my ear, "You will regret this."

He teleports away, with anger still flashing in his eyes.

Once he leaves, I breathe a sigh of relief. "That's what they keep telling me," I mumble numbly to myself.

What the hell was all that?

"You should've just told him," I hear someone say solemnly.

The young woman sitting directly across from my own cell with long, blonde hair almost down to her waist. It's the same girl I saw looking in on my confrontation with Sabertooth. Her skin is pale, her eyes sky blue. I can't help but wonder what her ability is.

"They're gonna take it all from you anyway," she says. "Your secrets, your memories, your insecurities; anything they can use. It's all part of their process." She blinks blearily at me, stroking a lock of long hair in her hands. "They freak you out, hurt you until you tell them your whole life story, and then they take what they want and use it against you. Wash, rinse, repeat."

My stomach knots in my gut at the hollowness in her voice. I wonder what they took from her. And why she's still here.

"If that's true, then I may as well make them work for it."

I move towards the glass and park myself on the floor in front of it. The girl watches me solemnly as I study her, taking in her tired eyes, cracked lips, and pallid skin. She seems to be dehydrated.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

She inhales deeply and replies, "Too long." She shakes her head. "I don't know, maybe a week and a half."

"What's their deal then?" I ask, unnerved. "Obviously they didn't get what they were looking for with you, so why are _you_ still here?"

"They think they can still get something out of me." The girl says with an uncomfortable shift. "They think I'll crack eventually. They know my powers, my past, everything. I just don't want to join them. I won't. So, they're gonna keep me here until I change my mind."

She chews on her lip, then says, "They, ah, they hardly feed me now. And, ah, I think I'm going to go _fucking insane_ if I have to stay here much longer, to be completely honest."

"Ah, relax," I hear a male voice say down the hall. "It's not so bad once you get past the Starving Period. Give it a few days. They won't let you die. And you'd better get used to shitting where everyone hears it, too. It's rough but it definitely gets easier."

You've got to be kidding me.

Someone scoffs, "Then you haven't made it to week five yet!" A female voice calls out, a little older-sounding than the rest. "They forget you even exist at that point! Ran out of toilet paper two _days_ ago!"

"Fuck." I whisper, pacing my cell nervously. "Has anyone ever actually joined them before?"

There's a collective groan throughout the group.

"You mean _Toad,_ " the blonde girl says with obvious disdain.

Someone to my immediate right mutters, "The only guy who smelled bad _before_ he got here."

"Toad," I echo, thinking back to the green thing I saw hanging out in the corner earlier. "The green guy?"

"That's him," the person to my right says. "They must be real desperate for recruits to want a guy like him on their little 'team of evil.'"

A woman with a hell of a lot of attitude in her voice (which I can appreciate very much), says roughly, "Toad the Sellout. He refused to join 'em out of laziness. Then, when the going got tough down here, he opted out. Little shit..."

"Yep." Someone else attests, "One day without food and he was done."

"Nice," I comment. "So I guess _he_ won't be helping us get out of here."

"D'you think you can escape?" The curly haired girl asks excitedly.

Her eyes are a deep brown, her gaze even deeper. There's a light air about her, like she hasn't quite lost her strength even after being locked up for who knows how long. I think I've already made a few friends here.

I nod my head once.

"I know I can," I say with full honesty. "But we'll have to be careful. It'll only be a matter of time before they find out exactly what I can do. If they can prevent me from accessing my powers, I'll be useless. Or worse, if they think I'm too much of a threat, they might just get rid of me altogether."

I move closer to the glass, asking, "How many people are here? Sound off with your name."

A pause, then the blonde girl across from me says softly, "Casey Tate."

"Tarina." The girl diagonal to me with the curly hair says, giving me a friendly nod.

"Call me Boom Boom." I hear to my immediate right.

Then, down the hall, "Louis."

Then, "My name's Chris Jacobs."

"Mera Von Wright. God, it's good to say it aloud..."

This continues on and on until everyone has given their name. Everyone except, apparently one.

"Oh, and there's a guy named Warwick here, too," Louis says further down. "But he's deaf and mute."

"Good to know," I say, concerned that he might be a handicap in a fight, then call out, "Is there anyone here named Glenn or Donovan?"

They still haven't called out but I know for a fact Donovon is down here somewhere.

Silence, then the voice of Mera, a hispanic woman who seems to be the oldest out of all of us, calls out, "Hey! Hey, new guy, that's you, _verdad_?"

"Donovan?" I call. "Donovan, talk to me!"

"I'm here."

"Donovan, what happened?" I ask, alarmed. "Are you hurt?"

At first, he struggles to reply, then I hear him say, "I'm so sorry, Liz. I-I should've...I should've told you about my powers."

"It's alright, Donovan. I never told you about mine either."

"I just wish I could help you somehow."

"Maybe you can," I murmur.

"Shhh!" Mera hisses urgently. "Someone's coming!"

The entire cell block hushes up as the sound of heels approaches with a quickness.

"Don't fight," Casey, the blonde haired girl directly across from me whispers urgently. But that's exactly what I intend on doing.

And someone else seems to be behind me on this.

 _'Fight it, Elizabeth,_ ' I hear in my mind, but it's not Emma's voice. It's Tarina's. I look to the curly blonde with the deep brown eyes and the Texas accent, and, to my surprise, I hear her say again, _'You can save us. You can_ _fight_ _it.'_

So, now I can read _her_ mind, too? What gives?!

There's no time to question it now.

The telepath rounds the corner just as I move away from the glass, punches in the number code, then steps inside. Her walk is steady and dangerous. She removes her gloves, taking an elegant seat on the bed and asks serenely, "Shall we get started?"

She's already probing me. I can feel it. I might not be able to fight her completely, but I can at least block her from the most important stuff. But in order to do that, I'll have to distract her with the worst.

My legs are shaking, as is my voice when I say, "Ready when you are."

* * *

 **What's it gonna be, folks? Can our hero withstand a telepaths' mental assaults? Will we ever find out what her freaking powers are?! Soon enough, friends. Soon enough...**

 **~THESCRIBE!**


	8. Chapter 7: A Truth Revealed

**I Do NOT own X-Men or it's affiliates. Thanks and EnjoyXD**

Chapter 7: A Truth Revealed

" **A-Ugh**!" Frost cries, jolting back as a barrage of images assault her once more.

Her hand goes to her cheek, mirroring my own, as she recalls the most prominent memory in my arsenal for the day, which happens to involve another beat down from my father. She glares at me, like it's my fault, then stands up abruptly, saying, "We will continue this tomorrow. And tomorrow you _will_ reveal your mutation to me."

I glare up at her, panting, then say, "I don't blame him, you know. I never have."

She looks at me, her emotion betraying her for just a moment. I hadn't meant to admit that. I never even admitted it to myself before. And yet, I've always thought it: I'm a mutant, a freak, and I deserve this.

It's hard to get thoughts like that out of your head when they've been drilled in since birth.

Before Emma's humanity can peek out any further, she sobers up, her face turning cold and hard once more.

"Don't think you can keep this up forever, little girl. I've been playing this game far longer than you."

' _And look who's winning,'_ I bite back telepathically.

She cracks a smirk, one that makes me pale with dread, and clack,clack,clack's away.

I lie down on the cool ground where I'd fallen once again and squeeze my eyes shut with a groan. I press my palms into my eyes, then wipe the sweat from my forehead. That was rough. She keeps trying to get to the details of my powers but I continue to bombard her with memories instead. By now, she knows only that my powers can be unstable and are not easily initiated. But aside from that, she can't probe any further without severely damaging my mind.

Or her own.

Still, she was right when she said I can't keep this up. Not only are her mental assaults mind-numbingly fucking painful but they are bringing up all kinds of issues I haven't addressed before. Even worse, her sessions are starting to wear me down. I don't know if I can keep stalling like this.

"What it your Dad again?" Tarina asks.

I nod my head, then say weakly, "Yup. Good times."

"You really mean that?" Boom Boom questions to my right, her voice sounding uncharacteristically soft. "About not blaming him?"

Yeah, there isn't much privacy in these walls. We can hear each other extremely well given the thin walls and close quarters.

"...Yes," is my reluctant reply.

Tarina opens her mouth to respond but someone else beats her to it, saying, "Well, _that's_ stupid."

I lift my head a bit, insulted, but Louis speaks up first.

"Wow, B." He remarks, speaking to Boom Boom, who made the remark. "Kinda harsh, huh? What crawled up _your_ ass and died?"

"What?" Boom Boom protests. "Sounds to me like your father was a _dick_. If _my_ Dad ever hit me, I'd light his shit up like the Fourth of July!"

"Didn't _your_ Dad make you steal for him, or something?" I hear Mera question further down.

"Well..." Boom Boom's voice fades a bit, along with some of her anger. "Yeah, but that's different!"

"Sounds ta me like yer Dad wun't the nicest guy either," Tarina states, scratching her head, something she's been doing with more and more frequency. I wonder how long it's been since she's been able to take a shower? Shivers..."You ever light _him_ up b'fore?"

"That's. Different."

"Hey," I hear a gentle voice murmur from directly across from me. I turn, having curled up on my side facing the wall, and roll onto my other side to look at Casey as she asks, "Are you alright?"

I sigh, tucking my arm under my head, and murmur, "Yeah. I just..." I laugh a little, tears dotting my eyes. "I just kinda miss them. My family, I mean. Things only got bad after I became a mutant." I explain, aware that everyone else is probably listening in. "Before then..." I shake my head, blinking away tears. "I don't know. It's stupid."

The lunch bell dings, alerting us that our once-a-day meals are to be delivered and that we need to back away from the doors so that Toad or Angel or whoever else can slip in our trays. I, however, along with Casey, remain stationary.

They've already begun starving me, seeing as I'm' more resilient' than most. Even so, starvation doesn't seem so bad right about now. What's the point in living when you don't belong anywhere and you're probably going to be killed anyway?

I start to close my eyes, exhausted from the day's attack and general fatigue, when the metal cuffs still around my wrists begin to rattle and shake on their own. A shift of energy, similar to the first time Magneto used his powers, changes the air around me and I give a startled gasp when my wrists are suddenly yanked apart and pinned to the ground on either side of my head. I struggle in vain against the bonds, groaning in a rage as I try to free myself. A moment later, and in waltzes Lehnsherr, wearing a black turtleneck that really brings out the coldness of his eyes.

"What do _you_ want?" I snarl. Magneto stoops down beside me, causally resting his elbow on his bent knee.

He scoffs lightly and taps my nose with one, gloved finger, saying, "You know what I want."

I rest my head back against the floor with a faint chuckle, "You really think I'm going to tell you all my secrets and join you? After all _that?_ "

"That's _exactly_ what I think." Erik replies, leaning in slightly. "You _owe_ me."

" _Owe_ you?!" I repeat incredulously, yanking against the bonds in my anger. "You _kidnapped_ me. I don't owe you jack!"

Erik contemplates this a moment, a muscle working in his jaw, before he stands up and begins pacing around me, probably enjoying the added height he has on me. As if I couldn't be more vulnerable. Somewhere behind me, I hear him ask, "And what do you think _Victor_ would have done to you if _I_ hadn't intervened?"

I fall silent. I really don't know. He _did_ seem kinda rapey but his attitude and the way he spoke seemed to suggest something else. And I distinctly remember the guy making remarks about how I was going to hate it here (which I do). Maybe he really _did_ want to help me escape? Weird, but not _entirely_ unbelievable, considering the world we live in and all.

"I really don't care," I snap, glaring up at the ceiling angrily. "I'd rather take my chances with him than with _you._ " Another lie. But I can't lose control here. If they think they can scare me, they'll have me. And I won't let myself be scared into submission.

" _Really_?"

The metal bonds begin to tremble once more and I have to quickly get my feet under me as my arms are suddenly yanked by an invisible force. I stagger to my feet, my wrists connecting, and am held with my arms raised just above my head, drawn as if by an invisible string.

Erik stops his pacing, keeping his back to me, and says, "Perhaps I ought to give him a call then."

He's jerking me around, I realize. Exerting his power over me. Son of a bitch!

" _Perhaps_ you ought to cut to the chase, Magneto," I counter in an attempt to veer the conversation away from Sabertooth. "What is it you _really_ want from me? You have to know I won't join you and my powers are practically useless."

He whirls on me, "And yet you refuse to reveal exactly what they are."

"Wouldn't you?" I challenge, holding his gaze steadily.

He stares at me incredulously. It's been three days since I was first kidnapped and brought here. Three days with no success in breaking me. Judging by how frustrated (even desperate) they've gotten, I'd say that isn't normal.

"You are treading on thin ice, Ms. Hawthorne," says Magneto. "If you hope to survive in this place, then I'd suggest you give me what I want."

"What _do_ you want, Magneto? Huh?" I ask, just as annoyed and exhausted as he is. "You want weapons? Mindless drones to do what you want when you want it? You wanna know why you're not having any success? Because people aren't like that! I don't want to work for you, I don't want to associate with you, and I sure as hell don't want to be your fucking slave either!"

This time, Erik has a reply right on the tip of his tongue, and I can tell it's an old song that he's been singing for quite some time now, "I'm not the one who intends to enslave you, Elizabeth," he says gravely. "The humans—"

I don't even let him finish.

"The humans!?" I exclaim. "You're going to blame this on _them?_ No." I shake my head vigorously, tugging at the bonds around my wrists in my rage. "No, this isn't 'the humans.' This is _you._ **Only** you. I'm not being held captive by humans. I'm not being starved out, tortured, humiliated, or threatened by humans. _You_ are doing this to us. Only. You!"

Red faced and pissed beyond belief, Erik waves his hand violently. He pitches me to the floor, this time pinning one hand to the ground at his feet, forcing me down on one knee before him like a servant begging her master's forgiveness.

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" He thunders, towering above me.

 _This gives him assurance,_ I realize. _He needs to feel above me because he knows there's truth to my words._ These people are more foolish than I realized. _Dangerous,_ but foolish. They're not as high and mighty as I'd believed. They just like us. They just so happen to be the ones with the power. For now.

"Humans will be our downfall!" Magneto is raving. "It is humans who seek to destroy our kind."

"You don't know that!" I press, raising my head further in an attempt to look down my nose at him in spite of being half-crouched on the ground still. This is beyond humiliating. It's just pathetic. Maybe I _would_ be better off with Victor. This is just ridiculous!

"They're afraid," I tell Magneto. "And they have every right to be! I know about the Cuba Missile Crisis and I _know_ you had a hand in it. You tried to _kill_ all those people! _You're_ the reason they hate us!"

By this point I'm screaming.

My wrath is coming out in full-force, fueled by the sleepless nights in this dank cell, the torture sessions, the starvation, the humiliation of having to use the facilities in the company of strangers. It's been wearing down on me for too long. And, on top of it, the force of evil that's been tormenting me – tormenting all of us – is just a group of scared little kids with no real concept of good and bad.

Unbelievable.

"You're _ruining_ it for the rest of us before we even get the chance to prove ourselves!" I continue, fuming. "It's people like _you_ who give us a bad rap. We don't stand a chance! They're right to be afraid—!"

My words are cut off when my hand is suddenly jerked up once more only to be caught by a rough hand. Magneto takes a knee before me, an odd stillness over coming him.

"Afraid," he whispers, a depth swirling in his stormy blue eyes that I hadn't seen before. The abyss of a lost soul, a fearful boy in a man's body.

"You will _never_ know fear as _I_ have."

My eyes widen and a strange fatigue I've never before felt overcomes me when he yanks back the sleeve of the arm restraining me. Along his arm is a long number tattooed in faded ink.

The mark of the holocaust.

I look into his eyes, stricken, and find pain (so much pain) in them. My gaze softens. Magneto's words reflect the fierceness in his eyes, startling me with their strength as well as the hidden weakness behind his drive; his obsession.

"I will see to that," continues Magneto. "And one day," his other hand comes up to my cheek, like a grandfather comforting a child. His words no longer bear his signature spite, almost tricking me into believing they are absolute truth, "You will thank me for it."

He lets me go, then, releasing his magnetic hold on me (both figuratively _and_ literally). He stands and silently glides away, leaving me to my thoughts. But what to think? Does he seriously think that could happen again? Another Holocaust, only this time involving mutants? Does he mean to prevent it, or simply alter its path in _favor_ of mutants?

 _In other words,_ I think to myself. _Does he mean to do to all humans what the Germans did to their own people?_

I think back to the number inscribed in Magneto's flesh with a shiver.

 _I sincerely hope not._

* * *

 **So, here's the thing. I don't want our villains here to seem too weak or feeble, but at the same time, I want to explore their true motivations/thought processes.**

 **They're people, just like anybody else. And like anybody else, they're flawed. Seeing as this takes place when Magneto is still getting his feet as a major villain and credible threat to the human race, I want to explore some of the major flaws in his thinking and intentions.**

 **Also, the problem with writing heroes and villains like this is that you can't make your baddie too powerful, or else they'll fry your hero's ass and end the story. At the same time, you can't make your hero too strong because then the bad guys look like chumps.**

 **I want to make everyone's actions, motives and attitudes make sense. Bear with me, as that may take some time to master. In the mean time, stay tuned and have a good one, guys!**

 **~THESCRIBE!:D**


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